His broad bare chest heaved in a deep sigh. “While what you say is the truth, it does not apply to you. Your soul was not weighed by Hades. It never reached your father. Those in the Elysian Fields are souls, judged and sent there by Hades… but you appear to be something else.”
Something not a soul and not alive. That wasn’t a comfort at all.
Calindria glanced at her hands again, shook them and tried to ignore the feeling in her gut that said her power might come from this death she had experienced. She turned away from Thanatos too, clambered up the boulder and then the next one, scrambling for the top she could see just ahead of her. The sound of water dripping grew louder, encouraging her, giving her the strength to keep going.
Her hands and feet were sore, and she was tired when she finally reached the top. Sweat trickled down her spine as she hauled herself over the final boulders and picked her way down the other side. The moment she was within reach of the flat ground, she took in her surroundings.
Paused as she spotted a cenote off to her right, rimmed with stalagmites in places. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, their rough faces slick with water that dripped from their tips into the pool below.
Calindria was sure she had never seen so much water. She hurried down the boulders and quickly crossed the flat ground to it as Thanatos’s wings beat the air behind her.
“Wait!” he barked as he landed and lunged for her, seemed to catch himself at the last second before he made contact with her and snatched his hand back as she pivoted to face him.
She glared at his hand and backed away. “What—”
Every muscle in her body locked up tight, clamping down on her bones as Thanatos drew his enormous sword. Fear crashed over her, threatening to sweep her away, but it was quick to fade as rather than stabbing her, he stormed past her and jabbed at the water with his blade.
She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Not everything in this realm is a lie,” he growled and kept plunging his sword into the dark water. “Some things are very real.”
She was beginning to think he was very real.
“It’s only water,” she started but fell silent when he glared at her.
“I encountered a great serpent in a pool like this… lying in wait.” He huffed and returned to his mission to stab every molecule of water in the cenote.
“What happened to it?” She edged a little closer to the pool, curious as to whether there was such a beast hiding in this one, just waiting to strike at her or Thanatos.
He looked at her again, his tone blunt. “I killed it and I ate it. It did not taste good.”
Her stomach growled and her eyes widened as his gaze fell to it. She covered it with her hands, feeling a little like a fool as she tried to hide from him the fact she was hungry. Or perhaps she was trying to hide her bare skin from him. Whenever he gazed at her, whenever his eyes raked over her body, she felt it like a caress, and it was beginning to unsettle her.
“When was the last time you ate?” He sheathed his sword, apparently satisfied that there wasn’t a monster in the pool.
She shrugged. “They rarely fed me and I am not sure how much time has passed since they last offered me a scrap of their food.”
He tilted his head back and eyed the chittering creatures loitering near the ceiling. “I could get you food.”
She wanted to say no, but the thought of any food, even food that didn’t taste good, was too appealing. “How will you cook it?”
He looked at her again, his black eyebrows dipping low, the corners of his mouth turning downwards. “Cook it?”
Her hand lifted to her mouth as a thought passed through her head. “Don’t tell me you ate that serpent… raw.”
He hefted his shoulders in a shrug, moving his wings with the stiff motion, and looked anywhere but at her. She supposed she couldn’t judge him for eating what he could get, but still. He might not have his limits, but she did. Eating cooked meat was one thing, eating raw meat was another thing entirely. She wanted to vomit at just the thought.
Aware he was growing awkward as she stared at him, she shifted her gaze to the water, bent over and waved her hand through it. It was on the cool side, but it would do. She scooped some into her hands. It was clear too. She lifted her head and looked at the ceiling. The rock had to be filtering it somehow. She scooped more up and drank it, her awareness of Thanatos increasing as he leaned over the pool and drank too, and didn’t stop there.
She tried not to stare as he scooped more water up and washed his face with it, as he ran his hands over his raven hair to tousle the thick, short strands. He made it impossible to tear her gaze away when he swept water over his shoulders and chest, washed his arms, ridding his body of black dust.
Good gods.
She swallowed, her mouth turning dry, as he stood and ran his hand over his hair again, water droplets chasing over his powerful torso, clinging to his muscles in places.
His silver gaze slowly slid to her, widening slightly, and she swore in a split-second before she dropped her gaze to the water, a hint of colour touched his cheeks.
Calindria stared at her reflection, trembling slightly as she listened to Thanatos moving away from her, as she tried to shake the thrill that had chased through her upon seeing him wash himself, and the heat that had followed when she had drunk her fill of his body.
As the distance between them grew again, her reflection came into focus, and she frowned at it. She had been right earlier. She was older than she had thought, and it made sense now. If she had been trapped in this realm for six centuries, then she was close to eight hundred years old now, her youthful years left behind her long ago.
She looked herself over, her eyebrows dipping low as she saw all the ingrained dirt on her legs and her stomach, and her arms. An urge to wash herself suddenly surged through her, and she had the terrible feeling it was because of her company. She didn’t want to look like some sort of wild creature in front of Thanatos.
She stepped into the water.
“What are you doing?” Thanatos boomed.
She tensed and jerked to face him. Blinked. “Washing myself.”
He was quick to turn his back on her, went so still she was sure he could pass for a statue. She kept an eye on him as she removed her makeshift bandage. The cut was healing as she had thought. She washed it and then the cloth, thought about bandaging her hand again and then decided against it. The wound was no longer bleeding and it would heal faster with air getting to it.
She used the rag to wash her arms and chest, and her face, and then scooped water over herself. It ran down her legs and splashed into the pool, and Thanatos’s shoulders tensed whenever the sound of it filled the cavern.
Part of her felt sure he would peek, knew the guards who had been her only company for centuries would have if she had bathed in front of them.
Only he didn’t.
And for some reason, that had her softening towards him.
But she couldn’t let him see how touched she was by the fact he had not only repeatedly shown concern for her welfare, but was being honourable too, giving her privacy at a time she knew she should feel vulnerable. Only she didn’t, not with him.
If he saw that she was softening towards him, then he would try to convince her to let him fly with her, and she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let him touch her.